


"Dodgy Midgardian Technology: A Guide" by Thor Odinson

by wicked_writings



Category: The Avengers (2012), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Implied Mpreg, Mama!Loki, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-30
Updated: 2012-11-30
Packaged: 2017-11-19 21:23:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/577808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wicked_writings/pseuds/wicked_writings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor, newly arrived back in Asgard via the bifrost and a nasty discussion with a Bilgesnipe, delivers a special gift to his brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Dodgy Midgardian Technology: A Guide" by Thor Odinson

Thor is familiar with the passages to his brother’s rooms, and he bounds along with haste, one arm wrapped tightly around a large, wooden box. His hair, long and tangled with the sweat and blood of battle, soars out behind him, bouncing against his billowing, red cloak while his boots clang upon the stone. The way is empty at this time and Thor sees no-one, neither servant nor maid. He doesn’t pause to knock, and the door bangs against the stone wall with a dull thud that echoes far down the corridor.

“Brother!” Thor booms.

Loki looks up from where he is perched on the bed, startled and angry at the intrusion, and somewhere to Thor’s right a young voice begins to cry. “Hush, darling, it’s alright,” Loki croons over his shoulder, and the crying stops, but Thor can hear smothered hiccups. 

“Brother,” he says again, but quietly, and Loki’s attention returns to him, complete with raised eyebrow. “I believe I have the solution to your… ah, problem.” 

Loki blinks. “And what problem would that be, Thor?” he asks, his eyebrow threatening to disappear into his hairline entirely. 

“Errrrmmm…” Thor cannot help it, he looks around the room. Loki is cradling an infant to his chest, the child suckling at a breast. On the floor, Nari plays quietly with Vali, but Vali has a damp streak of tears upon his cheek and the sight makes Thor’s chest pang with guilt. Hel is in a cradle, rocking gently from side to side, sleeping quietly. Beside her, curled in a chair, Sleipnir reads a book of children’s tales, and Thor breaks into a wide grin as he realises it is one he brought home from Midgard not two months before. In the room beyond, Thor can hear the muffled murmuring of one of Loki’s nursery attendants as she encourages Fenrir to sleep. “Uh, Loki, you have six children.”

“Yes. Believe it or not, brother, I am perfectly capable of counting.” Loki is irritated now, and perhaps Thor should not have come while his brother was nursing, but he felt it couldn't wait. 

“The Man of Iron provided me with something that might help,” Thor blurted out, and thrust the wooden box out in front of him. “He said these are often used to help relieve certain… _urgings_.”

Loki looks positively thunderous, but makes no move to rise from the bed whilst Jormungand is nursing. “What is the meaning of this?” he hisses. “You think my children were a _mistake_ because I could not control my body?” 

“No!” Thor cries out. These were, after all, his niece and nephews, and he loved each dearly as if they were his own. “I merely suggest that perhaps these would allow you to relieve the urgings that might otherwise distract you from your parenting.” It is a poor invention as far as Loki is concerned, and his black-haired brother looks suitably unimpressed, but it is the best Thor could do on such short notice and so he feels somewhat proud. 

Loki is aware that his brother has blundered, but knows that his statement was without not only thought, but also without malice. He sighs, and as Jormungand is nearly asleep, shifts him to his shoulder and pats his back. “Fine,” he says, shaking his head, and Thor’s grin returns before he slides the box onto the bed. “The mortals are much concerned with these, brother. There are stores upon stores selling thousands of every kind imaginable.” 

Loki barely listens as he kisses Jormungand’s forehead and lays him carefully in the bassinet close to the bed. “The mortals are obsessed with all kind of strange things, Thor, some of which are far beneath us. Now, what, by the Norns, have you brought that you are so excited about?”

Thor beams and bends down to jiggle at the lock on the box. It opens, eventually, under his misguided fingers. Loki shuffles closer to him, his curiosity now dampening any anger at his brother's instrusion. They both watch, silently, as the lid of the box rises on its brass hinges. 

Loki is the first to speak. “Brother... what are they?” It's not like Loki to not know the answer to a question, or have to question something he doesn't understand. He has, until now, unerringly been the source of most of Thor's knowledge. 

Thor doesn't answer though, just crinkles his brow with confusion as he peers down into the box. 

“I...errr.... well, they appear to be shaped like -” He cuts off suddenly, not least because Loki suddenly shoots him a venomous look.

“The children,” Loki hisses between clenched teeth, and slams the lid of the box down rather abruptly. He may not be overly familiar with Midgardian technology, or profess to understand their oft confusing cultural and social norms, but he can admit to being intimately familiar with the more private regions of male anatomy (these places being his favourite). And these, Loki could see, were rather excellent and detailed facsimiles of the real thing. How, and why, he could not bring himself to ask.

Curiousity encourages him to peek once again, lifting up the lid to peer inside. There are many, of various colours and shapes, made of a material unfamiliar to Asgardian technology. He tentatively slides a hand in and strokes the surface of one coloured a particularly glittery shade of green. It's smooth, but not hard, giving into his touch. There are bumps and veins looping around the shaft, and when Loki shifts to wrap his fist around it he can feel that it has been made with every care to resemble the real thing. After all, he would know.

He remembers his children and guiltily drops the object back into the box. He moves to close the lid when it suddenly starts to shudder in his grip. A harsh, grinding noise fills the box and spills into the room, and both Jormungund and Hel wake with a cry as the sound seems to grow in intensity. The other children stop their play and stare, but Loki is frozen in place, utter confusion writ on his face. 

“Thor, what is the meaning of this!” Loki splutters, looking to his brother in horror. Thor just gapes, his mouth slack and eyes staring. “Oh you are _useless_ , you oaf!”

Loki thrusts the lid back up. The green object is bouncing and screeching, and as he watches it collides with another. To his horror, the affliction appears to have spread to this new object, and it too starts to emit a sharp, high-pitched buzz while it writhes around. The condition starts to spread, and soon all of the gadgets are bouncing and whining. The sound is nearly unbearable, and Vali and Nari clamp their hands over their heads to block out the noise. 

Loki slams the lid back down and thrusts the box at his brother. “I don't care what you do, just get it out of here!” 

Thor is too shocked to do anything other than nod, and he grip the vibrating box firmly as it threatens to leap out of his grasp. He stands abruptly and heads for the door, but before he gets there Loki leaps up from his place on the bed and tugs at Thor's elbow to stop him. He leans close to whisper into his brother's ear.

“Just disable them, will you brother? Do not destroy them. I wish to, ah, _study_ them later. For educational purposes.” Face bordering on a pale shade of pink, such a bare hint of colour that is not normally seen on the usually demure Prince, Loki rushes back to the bed and to his crying children as he leaves Thor to shuffle out the door, face as red as his cloak and the blood in his hair.

*

It takes an hour to settle the children again, and Loki is tired himself by the time they are all quietly reading or sleeping. He asks his attendant to watch over the children and slips quietly out of the room, quite sure Thor has retreated to the safety of his rooms with his exuberant box of intriuging gadgets. Loki cannot deny he is eager to inspect them further, in the privacy of his room this time.

Thor is in his bedroom, box open on the bed with its items strewn across the blanket. Whatever he has done in the meantime has worked: the objects are still and quiet now. He turns as Loki enters the room, holding in his hands two bottles of a clear, plain fluid. 

“Ah, brother! How are the children?” he asks, concern etched on his face.

“They are fine, they are fine...” Loki says hastily, and slides onto the bed next to Thor. “How did you do it? How did you make them stop?”

Thor's face lights up like the striking of the sun into shadows. He grins broadly, and drops the bottles to pick up one of the flesh-coloured objects. It is unerringly realistic, and Loki decides he is not comfortable with his image of his brother holding such an item. It is... _disturbing_ , to say the least. 

“See here, Loki. These toys can stop and start whenever you wish!” He enthusiastically jabs at a small button on the underside of the object, and it obligingly starts to buzz and writhe in his hand. Loki swallows hard. 

“Ah, err, that is very interesting, brother,” Loki manages, tripping over his words in way he hasn't done since he was small. 

Thor continues to jab at the button, making it turn off and then on again, and he sits there quite happily for a while as he fascinates himself with his ability to control the objects actions by a mere press of a finger.

Loki rolls his eyes and turns his attention to the other items on the bed. No two are the same – there are curved ones, straight ones, red ones, yellow ones. There are ones that seem to taper off and others wider than his fist. Loki glides his fingers over them and wonders, with considerable aid from his lascivious imagination, just how best to put these items to work.

He idly picks up one the same colour as the gold that adorns Asgard's walls and buildings. This one has no button, but rather some sort of dial, and he soon learns that screwing it one way and then the other both turns it on and off and increases or decreases the speed of the vibrations. He trembles at the thought of what such vibrations could induce, then remembers where he is and hastily turns it off and places it down.

He turns to Thor, who is still engrossed, having now added a chorus of “ _on_ ” and “ _off_ ” in time with his pressing of the button. It takes a moment for Loki to interrupt his intense pattern of thought. 

“What is it, brother?” Thor asks, blinking. 

Loki sighs. He holds up one of the items and waves it in the air. “Before, you called this a _toy_. Why so? This is no toy, I would not let my children play with such a thing!”

“Well, that is simply what the Man of Iron called them! On Midgard, I believe they are actually called 'sex toys'.” He grins, and goes back to playing.

Loki sits and thinks for a while, wondering just why he is playing with 'sex toys' with his brother like his sons play with wooden bricks with each other. He decides he'd rather not continue contemplating, and he asks Thor another question instead.

“Just how they work, then? Why can they be turned on and off?”

It's almost as if Thor has been waiting for Loki to ask this question. He sits up, places the toy carefully on the bed, and turns to face his brother with a proud look on his face. Loki wonders how long it will last. 

“They are powered by the sun's rays, brother! The Man of Iron is very clever and has harnessed the power of the sun to enable such action to be emitted by these toys!” Then Thor appears to suddenly deflate. “They were, ah, powered by... batt-ah- _rays_ , I do believe... something like that... but Mr Starkson said batt-ah-rays do not last very long and this way should work forever. You must, er, place these in the sun when they appear to need more power.” Thor finishes, and looks rather baffled as he does so, though Loki cannot blame him. This Midgardian magic is new to him, a fact that displeases him somewhat, and there is nothing for it but to study these objects at length until their secret is revealed. Loki mentally prepares himself for intense study. Repeatedly. 

“Yes, well, brother, thank you, that is fascinating. Now if I may, I do believe I shall start my research into these straight away. Can you help me gather them up?”

Thor looks almost _disappointed_ , and Loki contemplates offering him one in recompense, then decides that his brother surely cannot be trusted with such an object. If such a thing was revealed through his carelessness, Loki would surely have to dispose of his own. This is not a situation Loki wants to engineer. Anyway, Thor will get over it. He can have one of Nari's toy trains if he doesn't.

They pack quickly, and in silence, and Thor carries the box to Loki's private room. Thor places the box carefully on the bed, and Loki knows that he is not so dumb as to not know exactly what the toys are for or what Loki plans to do with them. It's not something he would particularly like to discuss with his brother, so Loki thanks him, pushes him out of the door and bolts the entrance to his room with every lock and anti-instrusion spell he has.

*

Loki isn't there at breakfast the next morning, nor does Thor see him for lunch. It's approaching dusk when he sights the children, playing on the same oak tree that he and Loki used to love so much when they were small themselves. Thor greets the nursery attendants and his mother, who holds Jormungund so carefully in her arms. 

He enquires about Loki while Sleipnir sits on his lap, playing with his long hair. They think he may be ill, say the nursery attendants, who have only seen Loki twice since Thor departed his rooms yesterday. First, when he called in to say goodnight to the children and feed Jormungund, but he looked exhausted and his hair was loose and stringy, so perhaps the illness had began late yesterday. He had appeared that morning, early, again to feed the baby and cuddle the children, but he not been able to linger long and repeated attempts to rouse him had failed. 

Therefore, they concluded, the Prince was ill and should not be disturbed. No doubt he would appear again that night to see to his children, but none should attempt to visit him before then. 

He did need his rest, after all.

*


End file.
